


Discussions (Found Family)

by technoxenoholic



Series: The Pros & Cons Universe [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Familial Relationships, Found Family, Fulcrum Is Very Loved, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Supplementary Drabble, The Pros & Cons Universe, Two Dads Dad The Same Son But Are Not Dads Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17430977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technoxenoholic/pseuds/technoxenoholic
Summary: Supplementary drabble toThe Pros & Cons,Chapter Seven: Family.Yet more revelations about Fulcrum. Story picks up immediately after the meeting room scene in TP&C.7 concludes.





	Discussions (Found Family)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vullet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vullet/gifts).



“Krok and I can discuss this alone,” said Dezsarus, waving a hand. “The rest of you can make your way out.”

Unsurprisingly, Misfire was the first one out of his seat.

“Don’t get lost,” Krok called after him.

Misfire zipped out the door. “I won’t!”

The rest of the team filed out in a more orderly fashion. Scorponok and Fulcrum were the last who lingered—Flame came back into the room to retrieve his datapad-distracted conjunx, and then Fulcrum was the only one left behind.

He hugged Dezsarus tightly, muttering something quietly to him. Dezsarus nuzzled Fulcrum’s helm, running a hand down his back, then gently pushed him off to give him a smile. “Go on. Everyone’s missed you,” he said, and he patted Fulcrum on the shoulder. Smiling back, Fulcrum finally made his way out of the room.

Dezsarus sighed as he watched him go, then looked at Krok. “Thank you,” he said. “I know you didn’t mean to bring him back to us, but most of us thought he was dead. This is… a miracle.”

Krok’s brow furrowed. “I know what that’s like,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Dezsarus hummed. “I’m sorry as well,” he said. “The war was cruel to us all. It’s why we left.”

“It’s over, now,” said Krok. “We assumed the Autobots won.”

“I’m not sure I care who won,” said Dezsarus, shrugging and stretching his wings. “Megatron would have me dead just as readily as Optimus Prime—perhaps moreso. But enough about that.” Dezsarus tapped a series of buttons on the edge of the table and produced a hardlight screen above it—an inventory. He reached out to rotate it so that Krok could see as well as he could himself. “What do you need, and what can you trade us in return?”

“Our name, the Scavengers, is as accurate as it can be—we have a lot of scavenged technology on board we can offer,” said Krok. “We need fuel and medical supplies, mostly. If you can spare any.”

“Luckily for you, we might just be able to.” Dezarus reached up to the hardlight screen and highlighted the warworld’s fuel reserves. “We entered a successful trade agreement with an organic world recently. In exchange for certain services, they supply us with all the energon we need, and then some.” He smiled, crooked and confident. “As far as medical supplies, you’ll have to talk to my chief medical officer yourself before we can finalize anything. I’ll take you there.” He stood, shutting off the hardlight screen.

“Wait,” Krok urged. Dezsarus blinked all four optics at him, and Krok continued, “Wait. Before that, I—I want to talk about Fulcrum.”

Dezsarus squinted at him and slowly sat back down. “What about him?”

“Well, you obviously care about him a lot,” said Krok. “And I haven’t known him as long as you, but he’s a part of my crew now, so… so do I. And I’m worried about him.”

That got Dezsarus’ attention. He shuffled his wings, leaning a little bit closer. “Oh, I assure you, now that we know the Justice Division are after him—”

“Not just that.” Krok tapped at the table, anxious. “The others don’t know he used to be an aerial, but… he’s talked to me about it.” He took a steadying breath. “Dezsarus, sir, Fulcrum is groundsick and stressed beyond belief, and I want to know if he can be given back his wings.”

Dezsarus’ own wings lowered, and his expression softened. “Of course,” he said, quieter. “I was going to talk to him about that myself, if I could. I… the warworld doesn’t have the parts for a surgery like that, not just yet. We can find them, of course. My conjuges can find _anything._ You can tell Fulcrum that we will help him, if he wants us to.” He smiled ruefully. “We’ll just be a while working on it.”

Krok hesitated. “You’re not going to tell him yourself?”

Dezsarus shook his head. “When Fulcrum left us, we didn’t even have this warworld for our own yet—and my conjuges and I were still courting. It’s been a long, long time. I don’t want to put too much on him at once.”

“I can understand that,” said Krok, nodding. “But don’t you think he’d rather hear it from family?”

“Aren’t you his family too?” Dezsarus said, smiling. He crossed his arms atop the table. “You look so proud of him.”

Krok squinted happily back at him. “I am… He’s a good kid.”

“The best.”

“I don’t know if he’d consider _me_ family, though…”

Dezsarus’ optics glimmered with mirth. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” he said. “Trust me. He does.”

Krok beamed.

Dezsarus stood again. “While we’re talking to Glit about the medical supplies you need, why don’t we bring up Fulcrum’s repair as well?”

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” Krok agreed. He stood as well. “Lead the way.”


End file.
